Baseball; the Last Great American Pastime by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Table of Contents

#1- Purported Pundits Proclaim It’s Passé .................... 1

#2- Sumthin’ Changed; The Sixties and Seventies ............. 20

#3- The Black Sox ........................................... 41

#4- The Babe and the Roaring Twenties ....................... 54

#5- A Wave of Big Bashers - The Thirties .................... 79

#6- The Negro Leagues ....................................... 90

#7- Barnstorming ........................................... 114

#8- The Forties- Game Interrupted .......................... 119

#9- The Fifties- I Like Ike and Mickey ..................... 137

#10- The Sixties- The Ball Got Dead and Nobody Was Grateful . 151

#11- The Seventies- Freak Out in a Moon Age Daydream ........ 158

#12- Run Like Hell- A Look Behind- 1900-09 .................. 165

#13- Keep Running Until You Drop- 1910-19 ................... 187

#14- They Played Even Before That? .......................... 197

#15- The Steroid Era; 1980’s to Present ..................... 217

#16- Relief Pitching ........................................ 239

#17- The Best Teams ......................................... 248

#18- When Was Baseball’s Crown Bestowed? .................... 270

#19- Errors ................................................. 273

#20- Overlooked by Baseball’s Hall of Fame .................. 279

#21- The Stats .............................................. 285

The 500 Lifetime Home Run Club ........................... 285

Highest Single Season Home Runs .......................... 286

Highest Lifetime Batting Averages ........................ 287

Highest Single Season Batting Averages ................... 289

Season Leaders in Batting Average ........................ 290

Season Leaders in Home Runs .............................. 296

Decade Highs and Lows of Runs and Home Runs .............. 303

Lowest Lifetime ERA’s .................................... 305

Most Lifetime Wins ....................................... 306

Most Lifetime Wins After 1920 ............................ 309

Season ERA Leaders ....................................... 311

Lifetime ERA Leaders Post 1920 ........................... 317

Various Potpourri Regarding Single Season Achievements ... 317

Baseball Total Attendance ................................ 322

Major Sports Per Game Attendance ......................... 322

#22- The Hall of Fame ....................................... 325

#23- A Dead Ball? ........................................... 334

#24- The Rules of the Game .................................. 345

#25- The All Time Greatest Team ............................. 351

#26- Conclusion ............................................. 353

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#1- Purported Pundits Proclaim It’s Passé

 

Don’t tell me. You’ve seen another magazine article which

says that football is America’s favorite pastime. If you look

closer, it’s not the writer of the article who says so. It’s the

recapitulation of some poll he supposedly took of 1,500 people;

the place, time, and precise question undisclosed. In certain

circles this is quietly called poor journalism. In football

mags, either available at Wal-Mart or “exclusively” on-line, it

is called “wishful thinking” and the easiest way for a no-name

writer to get his name on something other than an overdrawn

checking account. The mag claims a monthly circulation of

50,000; and is not compelled to disclose that that one time

occurrence happened only during the “Deflategate” scandal and

the following celebratory festivities of the last exciting Super

Bowl week, including poor St. Louis. Every year they sit there

on Super Bowl Sunday quietly trying to enjoy their constipation

and irritable bowel ads, only to be subjected to something truly

bleak; like a stiff Dorito’s attempt at an “amusing” Boogaloo.

Baseball is no longer the “Great American Pastime.” No, I

didn’t say that. Never would. In fact, initially, no one of any

note did. It had to have been some sort of a surreptitious

terrorist attack. It was those people nobody ever heard of who

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were supposedly polled by the “sportswriter” nobody ever heard

of. The hidden assailants must have hated the people who have

idolized Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Reggie

Jackson, Mark McGwire, Barry Bonds, and Albert Pujols. Yet they

wouldn’t dare say it out loud. Using concealed identities they

must have esoterically networked on the immense vat of

misinformation; sometimes kindly referred to as the Internet.

They were angry that we baseball fanatics did not worship their

gods of deflation and short term pan flashes.

I can’t recall when it kicked in. Most likely there was no

kick whatsoever; just another slow fadeout. It wasn’t as if

anyone had the nerve to out and out say or even deny it. It was

merely alluded to in omission of anything personal. Just as in

the most subtle of misinforming hints; it was just less and less

overtly said.

Like when the pneumatic door closes behind you in

Manhattan, the silence becomes noticeable. Addicted to the

uniformity of the jackhammer level street noise, you race to the

nearest available button and push it in hopes of restoring the

blatant heavy metal. Instead you are greeted with a wearied

panel discussion regarding whether or not Tom Brady deflated the

football. To some anticipated audience, it seems of the highest

importance to determine why Tom was fooling with the ball to

begin with and whether or not this is standard quarterback

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operating procedure. Who in fact is responsible for supplying

the game ball? How much footage would be lost at a deflation

which departs from the standard of ten percent? Five percent?

Why do referees not use some measuring device to check

significant game equipment? Would this interfere with their film

watching? Whether or not there was some malfeasance did it have

a significant effect on the game’s outcome? Did the allegedly

flaccid football remain in the game; or did someone then blow it

up or replace it? Did the ball respond? ...................

If you’re anything like me, you could not help but think of

early springtime in Florida and Arizona; another resurrection in

the sun. If this is where your mind wanders, you must be

familiar with baseball’s long held position as “The Great

American Pastime.” If not, there are zillions of other sports

books and magazines you would much more prefer.

If you’re still there; as a true baseball fan you were

already versed in the subject of dead balls and required little

further degree of explanations. But all the hoopla coupled with

Tom’s strained face on the back cover of the quarter gobbling,

metal newsstand in the lobby, reminded you that you were again

hearing the stillness of the death knell of your passion; “The

Last Great American Pastime;” baseball. Every bone in you

rebelled at the thought of the un-thinkable. Discussions of

corked bats had given way to discussions of flat footballs. No,

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it couldn’t be so. Like a display of pecuniary perspicacity or

penile proportions, no proper person previously presumed to say

it out loud.

Until recently. This is a difficult subject. It would

border on unsociability to overtly say that one could care less

about Tom Brady’s relationship with the game ball. .........

I’ll confess my personal bias. I really don’t. Further; Tom and

the allegedly flaccid ball have an importance position on my

priority list one step above the aftermath of Lee Sedol’s April

2015, four out of five game “Go” loss to IBM’s algorithmic

concoction named “AlphaGo.” For the uninitiated, “Go” is a board

game with some stretched similarities to Chess, which has been

predominately played in the Orient for centuries. “AlphaGo” is

the first machine to beat one of the best human players of the

static game. Once placed, pieces cannot be moved. Yeah, it’s

that interesting. It didn’t exactly make headlines in the US.

Correction; Tom’s placement on my priority list is one step

below that of Lee. Neither Tom’s ball nor Lee’s manual dexterity

have the cachet of a Walter Johnson- Smoky Joe Wood pitching

duel. I dare someone to argue with the popular significance of a

series of events which drew standing-room-only fans to the

lines.

Christ; football has willingly evolved to become the nickel

and diming corporate game. Joe Namath and Dan Fouts are long

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gone. The “management” has taken their places. Their career

records have been superseded by guys who throw the safe short

ones hoping the receiver can run. Just take a look at the list

of highest quarterback passing yardage. You will note that it is

dominated by recent players who have yet to demonstrate a

consistent ability to throw the ball more than twenty yards.

Management says that’s too risky.

Football is team sport in every sense of the word. Baseball

is very individual in many respects. If you had the best

quarterback who ever lived and put him on a team with a poor

offensive line, he would without a doubt do poorly. Conversely a

middling quarterback with a great line will always do well.

Contrast that with baseball, where a good hitter will hit well

on any team. A good pitcher will pitch well on any team. It’s

one of baseball’s fascinations. We can speak about individual

performance. ........... Is that still allowable?

Put Peyton Manning or Tom Brady on a last place team and

you’ll never hear of them again. Put Ralph Kiner and Johnny Mize

on bad teams and they have proven that they can still hit well.

Put Walter Johnson on a perennial second division team and he

won more games than anyone other than Cy Young. .......... Hmmn.

Maybe that unsettles some people. Many people believe in their

excuses. Who are we to disturb them with the time dependent

vagaries of individualized accomplishments?

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Other more experienced writers have broached baseball’s

supposed demise and have quickly retreated after getting a foot-

long, short feeler article wet. Witness Jonathan. There are a

number of real difficulties in saying that which is obvious and

simultaneously unpopular as an ignored euphemism. The game in

which statistics have more validity than any other, does not

easily lend itself to what is ultimately a value judgement which

might be easily gathered from a properly conducted poll. ......

I know. We know. There is no such thing as a properly conducted

poll. The game is played on the field by names like Ruth, Cobb,

Wagner, Johnson and Mathewson; not Nielsen, Fox News, or Huff

post. Moreover, we baseball lovers don’t really give a damn

about the polls. It’s their free choice, their slow-news-day

“contribution,” and ultimately their loss. But, for a few hours

let’s pretend that we can sociably relate to their game and its

degree of flaccidity.

Much too optimistic some say. “Absolutely abhorrent;” say

others. “What the fuck?” say my people. “Let’s celebrate the

greatness of King Kelly and his game.” Yes and a sigh. It‘s a

“Catch-22” as then we would have been successful in recalling

the things we’ve been doing our bests to forget.

But, then they sent out the heavy hitters.

None other than The New York Times made it official hunting

season, when they used their prominence to finally say it out

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loud. It might be fair to say that within their long term policy

of; “All the news that’s fit to print,” they allowed it to be

said. They carried the pronouncement on October 3, 2013. It was

later affirmed in a confirmation issued in the National Sun

Times of April 16, 2015. The original article was written by the

well esteemed author of The New York Times notable book of 2007;

no cozy collusion aspersions cast; “Ladies and Gentlemen, the

Bronx Is Burning: 1977, Baseball, Politics, and the Battle for

the Soul of a City,” which was released March 21, 2006. The

writer, Jonathan Mahler, is rightly commended for his choice to

render into words the extremely interesting baseball time in

Yankee baseball. The days of Reggie Jackson, Catfish Hunter,

Thurman Munson, Billy Martin, and George Steinbrenner provided

plenty of material to entertain those without a timely seat

behind first base; as well as those who did. The title is a

mouthful, but popular taste shortened it to “The Bronx is

Burning.”

Jonathan has been covering sports for Bloomberg and the

Times for a while now, periodically showing an interest in

certain conspiracy theories including the possible non-death of

Osama Bin Laden. While I am prevented from showing the article

as it was written, suffice to say that Mr. Mahler put his

considerable weight behind opining that baseball was now number

three in America; trailing both football and basketball; whether

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the sports played with the cockeyed bouncing ball or the one

which is capable of a true bounce but is more often carried,

were played at the pro level or not. That adds insult to injury.

Mr. Mahler may have been merely the messenger who brings the bad

news. But some baseball aficionados can’t help but consider him

some sort of traitor.

Below are letters, some supportive and some not, written to

the Times just subsequent to the essay, which might give you

some idea of Mahler’s take on the matter and the reasoning

behind it.

 

To the Editor:

Jonathan Mahler, in “Is the Game Over?” Sunday Review, Sept. 29, (irrelevant minor conflict) seems to confuse the status of Major League Baseball with the standing of the game of baseball in American society.

While he correctly observes that professional baseball is enjoying good times even as television ratings fall far behind professional and collegiate football and basketball, he doesn’t mention more important barometers of baseball’s continuing vitality and popularity among the American people.

These include the millions of boys and girls who join thousands of youth, scholastic, collegiate and American Legion baseball teams, along with the men and women who play baseball and softball in industrial and semiprofessional urban and rural leagues, and the continuing interest in the history and cultural meaning of baseball, as measured by the sale of baseball books, the popularity of baseball films like “The Natural” and “Field of Dreams,” and the public’s continuing fascination with the origins of the sport.

Major League Baseball may indeed rank a poor third to football and basketball in television ratings, but the game remains the

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national pastime because it resonates more deeply in the country’s soul than any other sport.

Name Withheld

Hackensack, N.J., Sept. 29, 2013

Name Withheld above is the author of a number of baseball books, apparently most interested in times before 1900.

 

To the Editor:

Jonathan Mahler’s points about baseball’s decline are valid; much work awaits the new commissioner. But saying baseball is no longer our national pastime ignores important facts:

Football teams play once a week, often in cold weather, obviating competing outdoor diversions, yet baseball attracts fans to stadiums daily for six months. Football enjoys free minor leagues (otherwise known as college); baseball subsidizes dozens of professional minor-league teams.

People constantly play baseball trivia, not football trivia. True, Madden video games and fantasy football have millions of fans, but baseball has fantasy leagues, too, and baseball cards are far more valuable.

Trade card shows showcase retired baseball stars. Most linemen play in obscurity. Baseball drafts from high school, so naturally they’re unknowns. But only baseball’s Hall of Fame elections provoke yearly debates.

Indeed, too few African-Americans play baseball, but fewer Hispanic or Asian-Americans are in football. The World Series can go seven games; the Super Bowl, with two weeks of endless hype, is one win-or-lose event, televised in the homebound winter. Both are great, but baseball still rules!

Name Withheld

New York, Oct. 2, 2013

The writer, the movie critic, has co-written four baseball books and has done color commentary for the Boston Red Sox Spanish Radio Network.

To the Editor:

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It seems almost incredible that Jonathan Mahler doesn’t explicitly state the obvious reason baseball is fading from the national discussion: too many games that simply go on too long. Who is willing to spend more than three hours watching a ballgame in May when the drama is, shall we say, less than urgent?

I’m a lifelong fan of the game, and even I can’t take it anymore. Its pastoral tempo is out of sync with our high-tech country. Because of that, professional baseball needs to cut its schedule, even in the postseason, and enforce rules that will speed up each game.

A little N.F.L.-like precision and discipline will go a long way toward reviving what is the most joyous of all games.

Name Withheld

Block Island, R.I., Sept. 29, 2013

To the Editor:

Jonathan Mahler, in his astute essay about the growing irrelevance of baseball in America, asserts that football is able to capture the public’s excitement because “it’s louder, faster and more violent ... better in tune with our cultural moment.” I guess that’s precisely why baseball will always be the sport of choice in our home.

Maybe watching runners move around the bases is a bit like watching the face of a clock. But my 7- and 9-year-old sons play Little League, keep up with the stats, and still collect ever-mounting piles of baseball cards. They call me over to watch a game on television when a player runs to first base and starts chatting warmly with the opposing player.

They love that moment best of all, and of course when the Mets occasionally manage to win.

Name Withheld

Scarsdale, N.Y., Sept. 29, 2013

To the Editor:

Jonathan Mahler’s essay about the decline in baseball’s popularity did not mention the most important factor: the price of tickets.

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Going to a baseball game, once a family activity, is now unaffordable for the average family.

Name Witheld

New York, Sept. 30, 2013

 

The writer would like to note that while it may well put a

dent in some pockets, the prices of tickets to major sporting

events have to be viewed on a relative basis. In 2015-6 the

average price per seat was $85.83 for the National Football

League, $55.88 for the National Basketball Association, and

$31.00 for Major League Baseball. Even tickets for the National

Hockey League doubled that of MLB at $62.18. Jeez; inflation has

been around since about 1970, continuing to the Dubya declining

reversal and the immediate Barack continuation and

intensification. This extremely brief foray into politics aside;

only one line is price-level-necessary for a book about Baseball

and America.

With a relatively small caveat this diminutive grouping of

opinions seems to suggest that the few “experts” are in

opposition to Mr. Mahler’s essay; while the more abundant “fans”

register substantial agreement. The quicksand sinks with each

step when one forgets that Twain was quoted as saying; “When you

find yourself on the side of the majority it is time to re-

assess.” To make matters worse for the “experts,” the Huffington

Post and the National Sun Times published baseball’s obituary on

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4/16/15, and made it a blaring headline. It seems to have been

written by one Kevin O’Brien; the name too common to find any

substantiation. But no matter. What was said is crystal clear;

no matter the postulated source.

 

Football Has Taken Over Baseball As

The True National Pastime

Certain things in sports may never be settled: Brady vs. Manning, did Babe Ruth actually call the shot? However, others are just known and accepted to be true; particularly that baseball is the national pastime. Or is it?

Turns out, a new poll from the good people of Bloomberg Politics may throw everything we hold dear and true about baseball into

question. Sixty-seven percent of respondents said that football

is America’s pastime, while only 28 percent said baseball is. However, the numbers aren’t all that surprising, Bloomberg’s Will Leitch writes. In fact, despite headlines of concussions and domestic abuse surrounding football and steroid use still plaguing baseball, it’s actually media that is the biggest factor to baseball’s dwindling grasp on Americans’ hearts, and more importantly, their interest.

IT has been a long, long time since baseball was truly America’s pastime, and it has nothing to do with anything baseball has done wrong. It has been since … television. ...The NFL is terrific to watch on television in a way baseball isn’t and never was, and we are a nation of television watchers. The minute people realized how easy football was to follow on television – even if it tells you very little of actually what’s actually going on – was the minute baseball stopped being America’s pastime.

Leitch says those figures might actually serve as a wake-up call for baseball, which he (not incorrectly) notes has been stuck in the past and resisting to adapt to a contemporary, modern audience and their consumption habits. One big criticism (by some) has been the length of play, which (some) say is slow and

dull. To combat this “snooze fest,” the league implemented new

Baseball; the Last Great American Pastime

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rules ahead of the 2015 season, which followed the creation of — wait for it — the Pace of Game Committee.

Let’s just throw in some sharks hopping through rings of fire while we’re at it, no? Now that screams America to me.

Personally, I would take the thoughts as well considered;

though from a similar viewpoint as the fan of Jean Claude

VanDamme action movies. I prefer Jean Renoir. Not in any attempt

to make baseball sound like the intellectual, art-house game

which it clearly is not, it is clear to me that one enjoys the

game more when one is aware of all the little things which go on

between pitches. That is not to say that there are no mental

aspects to football and basketball. However, I will tell you

that more than one ex-football player has told me that the game

is decided “on the line,” yet this aspect of the game loses out

to the quarterbacks, the pass receivers, and the running backs.

For the fan who has no interest in becoming a maven on the game,

football and basketball provide constant movement the eye can

follow without any need for strategical nuances.

I would like to know a bit more about that Bloomberg poll,

though. How many people were polled? Where do they live? And

perhaps most importantly, was the poll taken near or during the

Super Bowl? ........... As always, the devil has a habit of

hiding in the details.

On a less circulated, but still distinguished blogsite

operated by Dr. Gerald Stein, baseball’s total death was

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announced on August 21, 2013. It is interesting to note that Dr.

Stein’s article pre-dated Jonathan Mahler’s article by a month

and frankly, had more interesting things to say. Here it is.

 

Death Notice: The Great American Pastime

The Great American Pastime has passed away. I am here to

announce it. You won’t find it on the obituary pages, but it is

true all the same.

 

Yes, I know they still play baseball in Chicago, New York, St.

Louis, and San Francisco. But, if the pastime lives anywhere, it

is away from the great stadiums and the big cities. Indeed,

perhaps only in more modest venues might an old-time baseball

experience now exist.

 

But, you say, what am I talking about? The rules haven’t

changed. It still takes three strikes for an out and three outs

to end each team’s turn at bat. The bases are still 90 feet

apart.

 

You are right, but I’m not talking about the game as it is

played on the field. Rather, I mean the game as it is

experienced by a fan in the stands.

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In the baseball of my youth, the Great American “Pastime” was a

leisurely way to “pass the time” on a summer afternoon. The

lyrical pulse of the match drew your eyes to the field, except

when the beer-man approached or your neighbor asked you a

question. A day at the ball park was usually easeful. Moments

of tension fueled by the drama of the contest were framed by

many others that allowed you to relax; kind of like the rhythm

of the tide, rushing in and then receding, rising and falling.

For much of the game, when nothing remarkable was happening on

the field, one heard the low-frequency hum of the fans talking.

As the play became animated — only then did the cheers and boos

crowd out conversation. Other than that, the auditor heard

barking vendors, with an occasional public address announcement

about who was at bat; and perhaps the sound of the stadium organ

from time to time. It was all relatively peaceful except when

something exciting happened on the baseball diamond.

 

No more.

 

The fan is no longer safe. He is targeted for an electronic

bombardment from the moment he enters the stadium, just as

surely as Dresden was targeted for real (and equally

unnecessary) bombs during World War II. The acoustic experience

is one of non-stop, high volume noise. If it is not the

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loudspeaker’s musical blast that has replaced a simple stadium

organ, it is the repeated announcements:

 

Jim Jones Jeep Dealership’s sales team is here along with Jim in

Section 5. Let’s give them a hand. Now turn your attention to

the scoreboard for a quiz on Cubs history. But before you do,

check under your seat to see if you have won a Cadillac from

Cathy’s Cadillac of Crown Point, Indiana.

 

Even so, the announcements are clearly insufficient for the fan

who requires hyper-stimulation. He needs to keep his eye out for

the dance moves of the paid customers that are being broadcast

on the scoreboard screen, just in case he wants to exhibit a few

of his own. He needs to keep a sharp eye for T-shirts of his

favorite team being shot into the seats by stadium employees on

the field between innings.

 

Most importantly, when the “kiss-cam” moment occurs, he must be

sure to kiss whomever he is with, so that thousands of others

attending the game can vicariously experience the thrill of his

five seconds of relative fame as they watch that image on the

Jumbotron. Then, when it is over, the “sausage race” begins, and

several alleged adults dressed as a hot dog, a bratwurst, a

Polish sausage, a chorizo, and an Italian sausage run around

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from foul-pole to foul-pole to the cheers of the Pavlov-trained

fans who root them on. Surely, this is a comment on the extent

to which baseball believes you can be easily entertained, and

how desperate the “sausages” must be to make a living.

 

Before the Great American Pastime died, it was a game without a

clock. You took your time and so did the game. Now watching a

major league contest is fueled by the impatience of the audience

for stimulation at every moment, useless information at every

other moment, and blasting sonics without end. If you do try to

bond with your little girl — the cutie you’ve brought to her

first game — you just might find yourself hoarse before the end

of the day. The most used phrase at your average big-league

contest today has changed from “Hey, beer-man” to “What did you

say?”

 

The only good thing about any of this is that you can probably

use attendance at a Major League baseball game as a diagnostic

tool to find out whether you are ADHD. If you love the multi-

pronged assault on your senses, you should immediately call your

doctor and get a prescription for Ritalin.

 

What has happened? I’ll tell you what I think. First, watch all

the people in the grandstand whose heads are turning from side

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to side, from a blinking light to a dancing bear — from one call

for their attention to another. But then look at those who tire

even of this. And what are many of them doing? They are checking

their iPhones, texting, tweeting, reading email, or surfing the

web. The baseball moguls have decided that the game is not

enough. Clearly, they believe that they must use every

opportunity to gain advertising income from people like Jim

Jones Jeep and Cathy’s Cadillac of Crown Point while, at the

same time, drawing your eyeballs away from your cell phone.

If you were at a baseball game in my youth (aka the 1950s and

’60s) there was one thing you did in addition to watching the

contest and talking to your neighbor: you kept a sharp eye on

the pretty girls walking by. Nothing captures the grotesque

deformation of the current experience of attending a ballgame

better than the knowledge that healthy young men in their seats

now spend more time looking at their hands (and the cell phone

in them) than any anatomical feature of the highly attractive

members of the opposite sex who are dressed to be seen.

 

If you are young enough, you probably think I’m foolish — old

and foolish at that. And, if you are closer to my age, you might

have hardly noticed the change in the game because it crept up

on you and me gradually. But think back and you will not fail to

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agree with me. My buddies Ron and Jim and Rock and Tom and Jeff

and Steve and Cliff will vouch for me.

 

Once upon a time there was nothing that I found more

prospectively enjoyable than the idea of going to a ballgame, no

matter how bad the home team was (which, as a Cubs fan, was

normally quite bad, indeed). Now, unfortunately, my emotions

are much more mixed. I’ve seen Major League Baseball played in

15 different arenas over a period of almost 60 years. The change

has spread everywhere.

 

Something has been lost here, my baseball loving friends. And I

don’t think we are getting it back.